


No Martyrdom Allowed

by IntelligentAirhead



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Friends talking through grief, Gen, Minor Character Death, Nonbinary Character, Open and honest communication, Talking through shit coping mechanisms, the minor character death refers to king alfor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 09:12:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9314969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntelligentAirhead/pseuds/IntelligentAirhead
Summary: Hunk tries very hard to help their friends. It would go a lot easier if they weren't so self-sacrificial, but considering the extenuating circumstances of an entire galaxy depending on them, it's understandable. That doesn't mean Hunk's going to give up on suggesting healthier coping mechanisms or opening avenues for conversation, though. Especially when Allura is so insistent on putting her grief aside and charging ahead.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I went to write a birthday fic for Hunk and it turned into Hunk and Allura being good friends and having conversations about how constant self-sacrifice is actively harmful 
> 
> the first half of the fic is set between Crystal Venom and Collection and Extraction, and the second takes place some nebulous time after they're all reunited in season 2. Can't wait for it to become noncanon in a week when the season comes out. 
> 
> anyways happy birthday Hunk

Hunk knew, theoretically, that something always had to go wrong. It was basic probability. The number of variables at play in any given scenario that were beyond anyone’s control, especially Hunk’s, was just too incalculably large to account for a scenario where nothing bad happened ever. Which! Served to back up their anxiety’s arguments way too often for their comfort, but they’d learned to deal by now.

Hunk  _ knew _ that something had to go wrong. They just weren’t expecting such a small problem to be so significant. Or immediate. Though, considering their best friend was Lance, they should just have started assuming that most issues would follow that pattern after their first week of acquaintance.

Still, Hunk’s life would be vastly improved if they could figure out how to overcome the deceptively simple dilemma of how the heck they were going to knock on a door while holding two cups of tea— or, as close as Hunk could get to tea with what they had at their disposal. At least Coran had been able to point them towards a space plant that was similar to ginger. Tea by itself wasn’t that great at making bedridden people feel better. Given, ginger didn’t really do that either, but it never hurt. Probably.

They frowned down at the mugs in their hands, then at the door in front of them, then at the mugs again. Maybe they should have just given up at the first obstacle. It wasn’t like the mugs were going to start hovering anytime soon. Besides, the door looked as blank and unimpressed as ever, and now Hunk had the added stress of wondering if ginger substitute could kill Alteans. 

Probably not, considering Coran had it in stock and was able to recognize the base properties of what Hunk was describing  _ but what if it was. _ Allura probably didn’t even want company, considering she’d just had to kill the last piece of her father left, and who’d want people around after that? 

Hunk bit the inside of their cheek. They would. They’d really, really want someone around after that. They’d want a friend and some tea. But whether Allura would was another story. Though… that was really up to her, wasn’t it? The least Hunk could do was actually offer to be there instead of waffling in the hallway.

Determined, they took a deep breath, then realized that they still couldn’t knock on the door.

Well, quiznak. 

Hunk was contemplating the logistics of holding both mugs in one hand while knocking with the other, when they heard someone clearing their throat. Wincing, Hunk turned to look at the source, hoping that the person in question had any chance at all of not being Allura. It was an empty hope. Apparently, Allura was less bedridden than they’d thought.

“Should I attempt a guess what you’re doing, or would you like to explain?” Allura asked, eyebrows raised in— thank god— amusement rather than anger. 

As much as Hunk had thought they were mentally prepared for a conversation, the realization that they weren’t was staggering, like superheated metal crumpling in cold water. Unfortunately, their panic tended to manifest as words: filter not included. “Well, if you want to guess, you can, and I don’t really want to explain, but I feel like maybe this is a leading question, and also your guess might be something like, ‘I suppose you were attempting to steal the mice and teach them about quantum mechanics,’ which, now that I say it, sounds like an experiment we could actually try? Aside from the whole ‘stealing’ thing. I’d ask the mice if they’d want to learn first! Though, they might already know the basics, considering they seem to have picked up a lot from being in cryo with you, which, now that I think about it, is something we’ve never really examined, and it might be worthwhile to—”

“Hunk.”

“—investigate just how reciprocal the connection is, considering that—”

_ “Hunk,”  _ Allura repeated, stepping forward. “There’s no need to be quite so nervous. I’m not holding a blaster to your head.”

Honestly, that might be preferable. There was nothing Hunk could do to stop a blaster, and they could at least be sure that they didn’t deserve to be shot. The impending threat of an awkward conversation that inevitably led to their friend hating them, though? That’d be all on them. 

Then again, a blaster would really, really hurt. And they’d die. 

Hunk sighed. “Sorry. I ramble when I’m anxious. Or when I’m excited. Pretty much whenever, actually. A lot of people back at the Garrison are probably like, ‘wow, lectures sure are shorter nowadays,’ and someone else is going, ‘yep; sure are! Probably because Hunk got swallowed by a desert beast, or an alien, or died alone in a meteor crater depending on what conspiracy forum you’re lurking on,’ and— I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

Allura sighed. “A bit, yes. I was wondering if I should ask the original question again, or if it would be more efficient to let you circle back around.”

“Oh, definitely the question.” Probably. 

Allura looked at them expectantly.

Oh. “Or I could answer without you having to repeat it?” 

“That would perhaps be best, yes,” Allura said, crossing her arms. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing! Even if Altean body language seemed remarkably similar to human body language thus far in some strange kind of social convergent evolution. Hunk would have to remember to ask Coran about that later. When they weren’t being questioned about their tea-related motives. 

“I wanted to check in on you,” Hunk said, finally. “You’ve had kinda the worst week ever? And I don’t know if you’d rather unpack it by yourself,” which was a subjectively and potentially objectively bad way to go about it, in Hunk’s opinion, but they weren’t going to say that outright, “or if you’d like some company.” They lifted one of the mugs of tea in a vague sense of synecdoche, hoping Allura would catch on to the whole of what it represented. 

“I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but if you do, or if you just want someone to be there…” Hunk trailed off. 

Allura looked at them for a long moment, then sighed, her lips lifting into a slight smile. “I do appreciate the offer,” she said, “but it’s quite alright.” Which was fair. Everyone had their own boundaries, and Hunk would completely understand if she hadn’t followed it up with the worst justification of all time. “We are running too short on time for me to waste any of it grieving. There will be time for that when the universe is safe.”

“Uh, not how that works,” Hunk said before they could stop themself. “You can’t just press pause on an emotion like that. It’s like leaving a sword stuck in your gut; yeah, sure, you won’t get a blood fountain going as long as it’s still stuck, but you’re never going to get any better that way.”

Allura’s face hardened. “I think you underestimate my endurance, paladin.”

“It’s not a question of endurance,” Hunk said, holding their ground. “You’ve taken more hits than anyone else; I can’t even imagine how you feel—”

“Then perhaps you should stop making presumptions about how I should proceed,” Allura snapped.

Hunk fell silent, gripping the mugs in their hands tighter.

Allura’s face fell. “I— I apologize.” She brought her hand to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That was out of line.” She took a deep breath. “I understand that you’re attempting to help, but sacrifices need to be made in order for Voltron to succeed, and if I don’t accept that, then I’m unfit for my position. I hope you understand.”

Hunk looked down at the tea for a long moment, considering. “Most of us want to go home,” they said, after a moment. “I hadn’t seen my parents since January— well, for a while— when we left. Don’t tell Lance I told you, but he misses Earth more than anyone. I mean, he’s not exactly subtle about it, but he likes to think he is. You know how much Pidge misses her family. They’re home to her. Shiro got to be back on Earth for all of three seconds before being pulled back into active duty. Even Keith talks about his shack.” Hunk bit the inside of their cheek. “Sometimes I think about Earth, and my family, and I think about how they could disappear, and it hurts to breathe. I want to go home. But I can’t, and that’s okay.”

Allura’s face was hard to read, a mix of various emotions warring with one another, which frankly, made talking an even scarier prospect than it already was. But Hunk had already gotten that far; stopping wouldn’t do any good. 

They steadied themself. “Shay and the rest of the Balmerans helped me realize that the universe needs our help. All of us, all of Team Voltron, realize that by now. We’re the only chance anyone has anymore. So we can’t go home. But that doesn’t mean we can’t miss it.” Hunk took in a deep breath. “If I didn’t let myself get angry, or sad, or just let myself want to go home, if I just bottled up the tiny Hunk throwing a tantrum in my brain? I’d literally die. You’d find my body draped over a fuselage, which is only artistic or tasteful when it comes to fake corpses in movies. Real cadavers smell.”

“I highly doubt you’d die from suppressing emotion,” Allura said. 

“Well, probably not, but I’d have a very messy breakdown and spiral down into self-destructive behavior,” Hunk said. “I know because I’ve been there. It wasn’t pretty, the only thing that kept me from starving to death was Lance, and it took me ages to work through the whole throwing myself into work so I didn’t have to feel anything thing, so yeah, zero out of ten, do not recommend.”

Allura opened her mouth, then closed it. “I’m fine,” she said, finally. “Really.”

Hunk stared at her for a long moment, then sighed. Pressing the issue wouldn’t do anything. Not then. Maybe eventually, but not then. “Alright,” they said. “You’re allowed to not be, though.” They extended one of the mugs. “I don’t know if you want any, but I made tea just in case, considering you’ve been stuck in bed for a while. Just thought you could use it.”

After a moment, Allura took the mug. “Thank you, Hunk.”

“No problem.”

 

* * *

 

There wasn’t much time to talk after that. Searching through Sendak’s memories had turned up information about a Galactic Hub, and the mission took precedence over working through any lingering awkwardness or emotions.

The worst thing in the world— no, the universe— was the mental hell of regretting an awkward conversation, no matter how necessary it was in hindsight. Hunk was sixty percent sure they’d done the right thing and forty percent sure that there were at least seven ways they could have handled the situation better. 

Which is why Hunk figured they were at least partially to blame when Allura sacrificed herself and threw Shiro at her only chance at escape.

 

* * *

 

Once Team Voltron was reunited once more and all wormhole difficulties were resolved, the conversation Hunk had had with Allura wasn’t exactly the first thing on their mind. There was an order they had to follow: first, they had to hug everyone at least three times, enthusiastically greet the castle and everything in it—  even the food goo machine, because if the team’s return wasn’t the time for a fresh start, than what was—  and finally check their workshop to make sure that everything was still in order, crates of scrap metal and all.

Hunk was examining their toolbox when they heard someone clear their throat behind them. Startled, they jerked up, banging their head against the open metal lid with a hollow thunk that sounded way more diminished than it should have, considering the resulting pain was stingy and achey and garbage. “Ow!”

“Are you alright?” Allura asked, coming into view as soon as Hunk turned around. 

“Yep,” Hunk said, voice too high and drawn out,  “just— just dandy. I’m— Okay, I’m not gonna lie, that hurt, like so bad. I’m gonna have a headache for the next two hours.” Acting like an indignant cat who’d been caught falling off a chair never seemed to work for Lance, so it was probably better to just power through the embarrassment. “What’s up?”

“I apologize for startling you,” Allura said. She frowned, then schooled her expression into something more benign. “I had hoped that perhaps, we could continue a conversation we had prior to the mission where I...” She made a vague gesture with her hands. “What was it you called it? Spiralled into destructive behaviour?”

Oh boy. Self-destructive, but Hunk was pretty sure Allura’d gotten that part. Probably. If she wanted to talk about it now, then it was more likely than not. 

“Yeah,” Hunk said. “We can do that.”

“Excellent!” Allura said, clasping her hands together “Then I’ll just… Ah.”  She immediately deflated. “I was actually hoping that you might be busy.” 

“Well, for the next five minutes I will be, but after that, sure, it’s time for an open and honest communication free-for-all.”

“Oh?” Allura asked. “What are you doing in the next five minutes?” She asked, sounding out the unfamiliar time measurement. 

Hunk rubbed their hands on their pants. There wasn’t any grease, considering they’d just been taking inventory of their toolbox, but it was habit by now. “Making tea.”

 

* * *

 

The observation deck was a good place for talks that got way too personal way too quickly. Space gave perspective to things; it made big issues and big emotions seem smaller, or at least that’s what Hunk had read in some interview with an astronaut. In their experience, though, it just made people really quiet and thoughtful. 

“My father was the former yellow paladin,” Allura said, after a long stretch of silence. “I don’t think I ever told you— told any of the paladins.”  Her gaze was steady, locked onto the stars. Or... no. She couldn’t be looking at the stars; they blinked past, gone in an instant, nothing more than streaks of light. It was like trying to focus on a single tree in a moving car. But still, Allura’s eyes remained focused, staring through the window and into the galaxy beyond. 

It took a moment for the information to sink in. “Wait, what? I always thought that he used to pilot the black lion because…”

“Unquestioned leadership was not my father’s specialty,” Allura said. “Caring was. Giving was. Putting the needs of others first was. That’s—” She took a deep, shaky breath, her eyes closing for a brief second. “The corrupted AI told me that I need not make a sacrifice. That’s how I knew that it wasn’t… that it couldn’t be him. Leaders have to do what’s right for their people, even if it means great sacrifice.” Allura looked down at the mug in her hands. “So I’m not sure where I went wrong. I keep— I keep making these sacrifices, and yet…”

“Maybe that’s because they’re not what’s right,” Hunk said. 

“What?”    
“Well, think about it,” Hunk started, “the sacrifice thing is a conditional clause. It’s a worst-case scenario, 'be prepared' kind of deal.” They hummed to themself, thinking. “Like… Let’s say something goes wrong in the castle, and you have to run diagnostic tests. You don’t immediately jump to ejecting parts of the ship, right? Like, I’m sure you’d do it if you needed to, but most of the time, you don’t. You figure out what’s broken, then you fix it. Or send the mice to. Or me! Or Pidge, or Coran. Any of us, really.” Hunk reclined, just a little. “But… it’s like you’re forgetting that when something outside the castle goes wrong, the answer isn’t automatically, ‘well, time to slam the eject button.’ You have the rest of Team Voltron to help you figure out what’s wrong and fix it. We’re a pretty solid diagnostic tool, if I do say so myself. Lots of different specializations and cool features that cover a lot of ground.”

“There was no other way,” Allura said. “Not with my father’s AI.”

Hunk winced. “No. Not there. That was pretty— yeah, pretty worst case scenario. But it’s not always the worst case scenario. You can rely on us if you need to.”

Allura sighed, then took a drink from her mug. After a moment, she replied. “I have a hard time disbelieving that everything we run into is the worst case scenario.”

“Hey, me too,” Hunk said, clinking their mug against hers. 

Allura blinked down at the mugs, bemused. “Is that a common ritual amongst humans?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s like— okay, I know Alteans have toasts apparently, considering the one we had with nunvil, so like, I’m not sure if you’re messing with me right now or not, but it’s kind of like that? Where you clink glasses with someone to go, hey, I see you.”

“I see,” Allura said, then looked at Hunk expectantly. 

“Wha— Oh! Oh, I see what you did there!” Hunk started laughing. “ _ I see _ ! I  _ see _ what you did there!” 

Allura started laughing in response. “It wasn’t quite that funny,” she said. 

“Nah, it was funny. Better than that, it was punny, which is the ultimate form of humor. Like, final form. It’s good.”

“If you say so,” Allura said. “I find myself doubting that whenever Lance attempts wordplay.”

“Listen, he loves making puns, but he hates other people doing it. If you want to win, you just have to fight back. He can’t take it.”

“Noted,” Allura said. Her smile faded after a moment. “Thank you.”

“For the Lance advice? We’ve known each other for ages; it’s not really much info in the long-run.”

“No, I meant for the rest of it.” She looked at Hunk, expression newly determined. “I can’t say that I won’t make mistakes, but I will not risk this team and their mission simply because I was unwilling to explore and evaluate every avenue of approach.”

“Also you.”

“What?”

“Also you,” Hunk repeated. They weren’t going to lose any of their friends, any member of their weird, dysfunctional space family. Everyone was way too important. Not that anyone in the universe was unimportant, though Zarkon could take a hot bath in an acid pit, but if Hunk lost their friends, they didn’t know if they could keep fighting. “Don’t unnecessarily risk you if you can help it.”

The face Allura made wasn’t quite reassuring, but she nodded, and that would have to do.  “I wasn’t sure, you know,” she said suddenly. “That you’d all fit the roles you were assigned. That the lions would accept you. But now…” She trailed off. “There’s no one better suited to be the yellow paladin.”

“Really? I always thought the uniform could use a few adjustments. It doesn’t really fit that well.”

Allura’s brow wrinkled as the pun processed. She groaned. “Really? You choose now, of all times?”

“I kind of panicked at the sincere praise,” Hunk said. “Sorry. Anyway, thanks. I, uh, kind of worry that I’m not doing this whole paladin thing right all the time, so it’s… it’s good to hear.”

“Of course. And have no fear, if any of you slip behind, I’ll be sure to give you a piece of my mind immediately,” Allura said. 

“Yeah, no, I remember you ‘testing the castle’s defences,’ thank you.”

“Was that supposed to be my voice? Were you mimicking me?” Allura went to cross her arms, then remembered she was holding tea. “I outrank you!” 

“I thought we’d established a friendly, talking-as-equals atmosphere!” 

“Yes, equals except for my ever-present ability to edit training schedules if someone were to take advantage of the situation and mock me in my own home!” 

Hunk gasped in horror. “You wouldn’t.”

Allura made a face. “You’re right. That would be taking advantage of my position. But, the possibility remains that I could.”

“Could,” Hunk repeated, “but you won’t.” They deliberated for a moment over whether they should push their luck, and for once, decided it was worth it. “After all, you’re a good leader.”

Allura looked at them for a long moment, face freezing into something inscrutable. “I’m trying to be.”

Hunk swallowed their objections alongside their tea. Allura didn’t realise how invaluable she was to the team... not just yet. But she was trying, and that would do for now.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for editing this, Stella


End file.
